


No Holds Barred

by thejollymisandrist



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (they were roommates!), F/F, Face-Sitting, Friends to Lovers, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Play Fighting, Tail Sex, Tender Sex, Trust, Vaginal Fingering, and they were ROOMMATES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejollymisandrist/pseuds/thejollymisandrist
Summary: Jester and Beau think it's neat that they can have occasional public bar brawls with each other and still be friends and traveling companions. What if they could add other elements to their friendship?





	No Holds Barred

**Author's Note:**

> The evening after Beau and Jester have a good old-fashioned, just-gals-being-pals bar fight at the Evening Nip. Timeline nudged for another night in the inn in Zadash before they set out on the road on the Gentleman’s quests, because an inn room is cozy and easy to write.

There’s a fireplace in Beau and Jester’s room at the Leaky Tap, and it’s crackling with the sap of fresh wood as Beau comes back from the washbasin in the hallway. Jester must have set it a few minutes ago, but now she’s sitting in the bed with her sketchbook across her lap. She burbles a vague greeting as Beau steps in and closes the door, barely looking up from her drawing.

Beau finds she is grateful for the lack of attention as she drifts across the room to stand by the fire, back turned to her roommate. She hangs the cold cloth she wet at the hallway basin on a hook beneath the mantle, hoping it might get less frigid before she uses it, and sets the bowl of water on the mantelpiece. The warmth of the flames tighten the freshly washed skin of her face as she goes about undressing - first the belt, then her sleeveless robe and the indigo wrap top that ties behind her back, and finally the strips of cloth that hold her breasts in place. She winces as they come away, bits of dried blood pulling at her skin, but eventually they’re off and into the bowl of water to soak. 

The wet cloth is still freezing, but the sting feels good as Beau scrubs away the remaining dried blood on her chest, lifting each breast to get at the crust of it underneath. Of all the ways there are to get beat up, necrotic damage is the most... unsettling. There are no obvious wounds on her torso or specific points of pain, just black spidery lines beneath her skin, burst blood vessels leaking through pores, and an ache of  _ wrongness _ across her muscles. She had tried to not put pressure on it as the group had drank and made plans after the fight in the Evening Nip, and by the end of the night, the itch of dried blood had been more on her mind than the pain. Beau pokes at a bloom of darkness above her left breast, curious, and gasps as the pain comes roaring back - like a bad bruise, but deeper. 

“What are you doing, Beau?” asks Jester from the bed. Her sketchbook and paints have been neatly laid aside, so she’s probably been watching for a while. 

“Are you still hurting after I beat you up in the bar, Jester?” Beau asks instead.

“I healed a bit while you were talking with the Gentleman. But you made this big bruise on my hip that hurts to lay on, so I was maybe going to use another spell before bed,” Jester says. “Do you want some healing too? Come here, Beau, let me heal you!” 

She pats the faded quilt next to her, and Beau feels compelled to come closer. She stops when her thighs hit the bed frame and looks down at Jester. “Nah, I’ll be good in the morning. If you’re gonna use healing spells, use them on yourself - I did knock you out this afternoon.”

But Jester reaches out, hand splaying across Beau’s bare sternum, grabbing Beau’s wrist when she tries to pull back out of reach. She whispers something in a scrape of syllables that might be Infernal and a pulse of warmth spreads from her touch, making Beau shiver involuntarily. Jester leans in and watches as blood vessels knit back together and sink out of sight beneath skin. 

“There we go, all better now,” Jester says, tilting her head up with a smile. She lets go of Beau’s wrist, and Beau takes a half-step back, feeling increasingly aware that she’s naked from the waist up. 

“Caleb cast Haste on me during our fight. That’s why I was moving so fast,” she announces in a rush, crossing her arms across her chest. “I didn’t know. He told me later, as we were coming back here.”

Jester squints and pouts with her bottom fangs peeking out over her lip. “I knew you were cheating somehow. I could have beat you.”

“Yeah, I’d rather have fought you fair and square; it would have been a better fight. I mean, I still would have won though, y’know. Monk shit.” Beau turns away and goes rummaging through her pack for her sleeping robe. “Come on, weren’t you gonna heal yourself too?” 

“Don’t be so sure you would have won, Beau-re-gard,” Jester says in a sing-song voice. “I am very strong and vicious, you know. No holds barred.”

Beau finds her cotton robe and covers herself, tying it loosely at the waist. “I know how strong you are. You were holding yourself back against me though, I could tell. Not very vicious, huh?.”

“I was holding back,” Jester grins, baring more sharp teeth. She wriggles in the bed, pulling her embroidered shift up around her waist on one side. It reveals a darkly mottled bruise, wrapping her upper thigh and hip and extending out of view across her belly. 

“Why did you want to fight me so much, Jester?” Beau asks, transfixed by the wine-dark bruise on already dark skin. 

Jester doesn’t answer for a minute - instead spreading her palms across the injury and whispering again. Nothing seems to happen for a moment, and then the bruise begins creeping back, paling until it’s only a shade or two darker than her skin, barely noticeable. She sighs with relief and stretches her arms over her head - first one, then the other. 

“You look tough all the time, Beau. You’ve got your face and your stick and your hands already wrapped up all the time for punching people. You’re not sweet and cute like me.” 

“The Mighty Nein all know how powerful you are,” Beau replies.

Jester’s pout comes back. “Do they really though? Anyway, maybe I just really like to punch and fight! You guys keep getting hurt and I have to waste all my cool spell slots on you instead of beating up bad guys.”

“I think the rest of the group really values you - your fighting and your healing,” says Beau, sensing something in the lightness of Jester’s tone that urges her to be straightforward in her compliment for once. “If we went another round, and you didn’t hold back and Caleb didn’t try any shifty shit again, I think we’d be pretty even.”

“You think soooo?” drawls Jester, with a smile like the moon. “Wanna go again right now?”

She shoves the quilt completely off her lap and scoots around so she’s cross-legged facing Beau, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. Jester is intent and waiting, watching Beau’s eyes as they involuntarily take in the heft of her thighs, the smooth curve of muscle in her arms. 

Beau holds her gaze and does the smirk that Jester likes to call sleazy. “How many more attack spells do you have prepared? No offence, but necrotic damage is fucking unsettling.”

“You don’t want my extra strong Inflict Wounds? That is disappointing Beau.”

“Ugh. That sounds awful.”

Jester flashes that sharp grin again, “It is. It would make your blood turn into black sludge and your muscles - ”

“We could just do hand-to-hand, no magic,” interrupts Beau. “You could come up with some sort of handicap for me.”

Jester taps her nose with one finger, eyes rolled up in a very deliberate thinking pose.

“What if... I didn’t use any spells at all, but you had your hands tied? Do you think you could beat me then? It would be like practice... for when we get kidnapped or something!” There’s a gleam in Jester’s eye and she’s pushed herself to the edge of the bed, feet dangling over. Her nightgown scrunches up with the movement, barely covering her and leaving the full expanse of her thighs out for the firelight to play across. 

Beau feels giddy, even more on edge than she’s was during their first fight in the Gentleman’s hideout. “Maybe... Wanna test it?” 

“Yeahhhhhhh” says Jester. She springs forward and Beau thinks for a moment that Jester is going straight in for the attack and brings her arms up to defend. But Jester just laughs and side-steps around to where Beau’s arm wraps are draped over the edge of a chair. 

“Come here, let me tie you up!” she says, holding out the strip of cloth. 

_ This is ridiculous,  _ Beau thinks, but she steps forward and extends her hands anyway. Jester’s hands are warm as they start binding her. Tieflings run a couple degrees hotter than humans - Beau knows this from sleeping next to one for the past few weeks, waking up uncomfortably toasty when Jester crowds her against the wall, or throws an arm and a leg over her in sleep. But they feel even warmer than usual, maybe.

Jester is all business though, cinching Beau’s hands together firmly, not quite to the point of restricting circulation. Instead of fixating on the process, Beau forces herself to think back to the few times in training where they practiced like this. Compensating for balance is the key issue - without free movement in all four limbs it’s easier for your own weight and momentum to be used against you. Her eyes catch on Jester’s tail, with its softly barbed end that fades to midnight-blue flicking around her ankles, seemingly without conscious thought. 

Jester claps her hands, takes a step back, and asks “Can you get out, Beau?”

Beau wiggles her hands and nothing shifts. She notices Jester has even tucked the knot up into the fabric where she can’t easily get at it with her teeth. She takes a deep breath and settles down into a crouch. “Alright, let’s go.”

 

\---

 

Jester charges in with a yell and Beau shushes her as she dodges the punch. 

“Come on, people are sleeping.”

“Oh yeah, no yelling.” Jester says in a stage whisper. She giggles, but it doesn’t slow her down as she throws another hit, watching as Beau steps aside again. 

They circle each other a bit; Jester throwing sharp little jabs and kicks that Beau blocks or avoids. The sensation of it - the eye contact and the blood pounding in her ears - Beau almost doesn’t want to break the moment to attack. 

Then Jester gets a little sloppy and steps too close, and Beau’s reflexes kick in. She hooks an ankle around Jester’s knee and yanks with the full force of her leg. Jester throws an arm up to grab at her on the way down, but Beau slaps her away with her bound hands. She lets out a stifled hiss as a knee collides with the floorboards, a quiet “Shit!” that makes Beau smirk. 

The room is small and Beau’s peripheral vision keeps telling her she’s too close to being in a corner. They hadn’t cleared the room before starting either, and there is a chair and their two packs strewn open on the floor, not to mention the lit candles on the nightstand and the bed itself, the scuffed bedpost marking one side of the space Beau’s backed herself into. 

Jester is up again and, noticing the bottleneck, charges straight at her, arms wide. Beau feints to the left and then launches herself up onto the bed, landing a kick that drives into the meat of Jester’s shoulder on the way up. Beau’s half-formed idea is to run across the bed and circle around, maybe trap Jester’s head in the loop of her arms and tackle her to the ground. But balance is key when the arms are restrained, and the softness of the mattress sends her foot sliding, tilting her towards a face-first landing against the floor. Suddenly, instead of falling forward, Beau is yanked back by the belt of her robe and she’s falling backward. Jester’s arms wrap around her before she hits the floor, grappling her in a Jester-scented hug that pins her fists up against her face awkwardly. 

“I got you!” whispers Jester, right in Beau’s ear.

“Yeah, but what are you gonna do about it?” Beau wriggles, searching for a weak point, but Jester’s arms are like iron beneath their soft layer of fat. Her breasts are pressing against Beau’s back, and underneath them Beau can feel the solidity of her pectorals and the muscles that wrap her ribcage. 

From the pause that follows, it seems like Jester hasn’t actually considered what she’d do once she had Beau grappled. Indecision is a weakness that Beau has been trained to deal with, so she headbutts back into Jester’s nose and drops down from between her arms. 

A quiet “shitballs!” explodes from Jester as Beau scuttles back toward the middle of the room, and then Beau tumbles face-first to the floor as Jester jumps on her from behind. Beau takes a few punches to the ribs before she can flip herself over and get her arms up to block her face and her legs at an angle where they can do some damage. At that point, the fight devolves into a tussle on the floor; a blur of limbs and poorly-landed blows that seems to happen all at once but drag out forever. It’s strange to have the adrenaline of a fight speeding the heart and limbs, but without the usual accompanying anger or fear of death. Beau finds herself noticing details that wouldn’t even register in battle - the softness of Jester’s hair as she grabs it to bang her head against the ground, the delicate orange flowers embroidered along the edge of her nightgown, her eyes. Maybe that distraction is what causes Beau to end up in some sort of backwards tumble that smacks the back of her skull against the floor and drives the breath from her lungs. 

In the seconds it takes for Beau to recover, Jester settles her weight on top of her and stares down into her face with a look of determination that says she’s ready to sit on Beau until she forfeits. 

“You wish,” wheezes Beau, and swings her fists up in a sort of ham-handed slap. Jester is the one who dodges this time, leaning out of the way with ease. Beau takes the opportunity to wriggle away again, but Jester clamps down on both her forearms and starts lifting Beau’s arms up above her head. Beau doesn’t know where this is going, but she resists on principle. 

“You are... so wiggly!” gasps Jester, as she strains against Beau. “But I have... an idea.” With one big tug she lifts Beau’s arms so that her back leaves the floor, then shoves them backward, over the rough-hewn log that stands in that corner of the bed frame. Beau’s arms hit the mattress a few inches below and then her spine smacks against the bedpost, leaving her half-sitting, arms pinned up above her. Jester settles back, legs straddling Beau’s thighs, casually rearranging her tousled hair, with the shit-eating-est grin across her lips. She watches Beau struggle, but with Jester’s weight in her lap there’s no way for her to lift her hands high enough to free them. Eventually, Beau stops struggling.

They stare at each other for a moment that drags out eternally, long enough for their breathing to settle into something less than ragged panting. There’s a charge in the room that Beau can’t quite identify, but she’s curious and so she bites her tongue and waits for Jester to speak first. Beau can cope with silences, but Jester has always felt the need to fill them. 

“Umm. Ah. Look at us, Beau! This looks like some sort of kinky sex pose!” Her voice is the bubbly giggle that is often is, but her eyes are dark and contain an intensity that Beau hasn’t seen before.

“And whose fault is that? You won. Do you want to get up off me now?” Beau realizes, after she says this, that it came out a lot more like a question, breathy and hesitant, than a request. 

“No, I don’t want to get off you,” Jester says, cocky. Pieces begin to fall into place inside Beau’s mind. “Do you want me to?” 

“I take it you want to...” Beau licks her lips, “To... do something nicer than beat each up?”

“Yeah,” breathes Jester, and then grinds her hips in a luxurious circle on Beau’s lap. Something like lightning climbs up Beau’s bruised spine and silently explodes at the base of her skull. Jester’s fingers follow the sensation up her sides, skipping delicately from hips to ribcage. “Sex, Beau? Do you want to do it with me? Like, tonight?”

“Fuck. Yes,” is what comes out of Beau’s mouth as the sparks are still dancing across her brain. She is fixated on Jester’s full lips, the purple blush of her tongue that flashes into view as she speaks, and she leans towards them, only a few slight inches away. The tug of her arms in their sockets stops her - as does the fact that Jester stays where she is and doesn’t mirror her movement. Her eyes are wide and still questioning, evidently waiting for an answer that doesn’t come straight from Beau’s turned-on lizard brain. 

Beau takes a deep breath to focus. “If we had sex, do you think it would make it weird for us in the Mighty Nein? You know, as like colleagues, business partners, friends?” 

Beau has had a handful of casual relationships that mixed business and pleasure without much drama, but the stakes here feel different. For one, she genuinely likes Jester and their whole motley group, so cutting and running if things go south isn’t such an easy option as it’s been in the past. Plus, Jester is just so  _ earnest _ . She’s got a flippant exterior, yes, but there’s a goodness underneath it all, so deep and strong in its conviction that Beau knows she’s only seen the surface of it so far. If Jester’s suggesting this, then Beau trusts that it might be something that could actually work.

“We’re friends, okay? But we’ve beat each other up for fun twice now and that’s not the sort of thing that normal friends do for fun. But we’re still friends, right?” Jester burbles, settling back a few inches. “I was thinking... maybe sex could be something like that too? We can work together and be friends. And we can keep sharing inn rooms, except we can also do sex things when we both feel like it too. Do you like that idea, Beau?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Beau agrees. “Hurry up and kiss me already.”

Jester grins at that answer and finally, finally, leans in to meet Beau’s lips. 

They start out chaste but firm - the kind of approach that would characterize two new sparring partners testing out moves. Jester slips her left hand down to squeeze Beau’s hip, and brings the right up to hold her jaw and rub across the short hair at the back of her head. The sensation draws a gasp out of Beau, and Jester melts into the newly available space  with a sigh of her own. Her grip tightens across the back of Beau’s head as the kiss becomes wetter and more powerful, and suddenly Beau’s mind is unable to process anything else. Jester keeps kissing and kissing her, almost to the point of breathlessness. The hand not in Beau’s hair is somehow under her robe now, splayed hot across her ribs, right underneath her breast. The heat of Jester in her lap feels like fire. Beau arches up into it all, tugging against the bedpost to chase every bit of contact. Bondage isn’t usually her thing, but there’s something about this that... 

Jester breaks for a breath, and, after a big gulp of air, Beau’s cognition stutters back into existence.

“Gods, Jester, is this some sort of tiefling thing?” she gasps. “Like, did you inherit some sort of sex power from your mom?”

“I don’t know,” says Jester, then nuzzles into Beau’s neck and intersperses her next words with kisses. “I mean, my mom is the best at sex in the whole world, so maybe?”

Beau nudges at Jester’s head until they’re face to face again so she can frown at her. “You know that’s a really fucking weird thing to brag about, right?”

Jester just shrugs. “So, you’re liking it, Beau? My magic tiefling kisses drive you wild with passion?”

Beau just glares.

“I wonder what would happen if I used my magic tiefling sex powers to give you kisses... down there?” she says, with a hard roll of her hips that snaps Beau’s focus back to how terribly turned on she is. “Would you like that? Be comfortable with that?”

The idea sends Beau’s heart stuttering for a moment, and she leans back in for another kiss to cover it. It seems like a big escalation, but, then again, Jester has always been straightforward about what she wants, in her own roundabout way. Jester kisses back slow and gentle, without any sort of impatience, and Beau lets herself get carried along by it, letting the tension liquify out of her bones again. After a little while, the kiss goes exploratory - a couple minutes more and Beau’s head is spinning again. Jester has kept her hands on the outside of her robes this time though, and Beau finds herself wishing desperately for more skin-to-skin contact. 

“Touch me,” she whispers. 

Jester loosens the tie of her robe and slides her hand across Beau’s abs, up to the edge of her boob again. “Here?”

Beau nods and Jester’s hand comes up and covers her whole breast, kneading it just the way Beau likes. 

“Want me to touch you lower too, like this?

Beau nods again and lifts her hips toward the tentative fingers playing across the drawstring of her pants. Jester’s hand continues to skate over her lower torso, uncommitted. Beau meets her eyes and says, “Touch me everywhere, okay? Then you can probably go down on me, but ask again before you start.”

With a decisive tug, the drawstring is undone and the loose pants easily admit Jester’s hand as it goes roving along the edge of her pubic hair and across her thigh to grip and squeeze at her ass. Beau’s eyes flutter shut as Jester scrapes across her skin with both hands, short nails leaving a gentle burn. They twitch open again when she feels a third hand underneath her right knee, but it’s Jester’s tail wrapping around her leg and drawing it to the side, opening Beau up. Her hand seems to be moving in a sort of spiral, edging toward where Beau wants to be touched the most, and then pulling back to go over her thighs and stomach again. Beau is about to tell her to stop teasing, but as she draws breath to speak, Jester anticipates the request and slides two hot fingers between her folds. 

They both gasp at the wetness there, but Jester turns her gasp into a purr against Beau’s neck and starts using those fingers to press against her clit, circle around her opening. Beau just continues to gasp. She’s given up on the idea of being able to breathe normally. Jester licks a long stripe up her neck and opens Beau’s mouth further with her tongue, aggressively now. Are tiefling tongues longer than human tongues? Maybe - because it’s everywhere, filling Beau’s mouth with a heat that sends a clamoring suggestion straight to her groin. It’s good. Gods, it’s so, so good. She wishes she could grab Jester by the neck and pull her even closer, or maybe just push her head downward to send that tongue to work immediately. But her arms are still pinned above her, immovable, and it makes her whole body feel like lightning. 

She moans urgently against Jester’s mouth and Jester looks up, keeping her face close, hands still working away on Beau’s body. Instead of a human’s pleasure-blown pupils, her eyes are a void of black now, both irises and whites subsumed completely. Her lips are dark-blue fading to puffy purple and her tongue is pointy and definitely longer than a human tongue. She grins a little, showing pointed teeth, and she’s never looked so... other. A month or two ago, maybe this sight would have given Beau a jolt of fear, but now it just sends a swell of warmth through Beau’s body and she finds herself grinning back. This is Jester, friend-ally-roommate-Jester, Jester who’s healed her, fought with her, trusted her. Jester who now so obviously and overwhelmingly desires her. Beau feels like she’s been granted a key to unlock this hidden side of Jester, and, fuck, she’s so grateful. 

“Hey,” is all that she can manage to say.

“Hey.” 

“I’m ready. You know, to see what your tongue can do to me,” Beau whispers with a wink. Any hesitance is gone, because it’s Jester. “I wanna touch you too though. Can you untie me?”

A huge smile blooms across Jester’s face, and with no other warning she wraps her arms around Beau’s back and rises to stand with Beau’s legs wrapped around her waist. She bounces Beau there for a few moments, and Beau grinds down shamelessly, feeling the linen of Jester’s nightgown stick wetly against her. Then, Jester sets her down gently on the bed, crawling up between her legs and pulling her arms forward to untie them. After unwinding the wraps enough to pull her hands free, Jester starts to massage each wrist carefully. Impatient despite the tingling in her fingers, Beau slips her grasp and reaches for the ruched up hem of her nightgown instead. Jester raises her arms willingly and in a moment she’s fully naked - revealing an expanse of the warmest, softest tones of blues that Beau has ever seen.

Beau reaches for her. “Come here, you,” she says as she tugs at Jester, aching for closeness, for something.

Jester bends her head to kiss across Beau’s ribcage, nipples, collarbones. She works her way up, settling skin on warm skin as she goes, pausing only a hair’s breadth from her lips. 

“You’re really pretty, Beau, and I like you,” she breathes, black eyes filling Beau’s vision. “Do you like me, too?”

“Yes, I like you, Jes. I like you a lot. Sorry for saying it was a tiefling sex magic thing. It’s just you’re so beautiful and hot and I want you to do everything to me because it’s you.” 

They kiss, and after a while Beau gets to finally wrap her hands around soft hair and horns and push Jester’s head down between her legs. If everything up until this point has been a revelation, a lightning shock, then there simply not a word for the sensation that accompanies Beau’s full-body shiver as Jester sinks the heat of her mouth across her entire cunt and starts licking in slow and forceful circles. Beau knows she’s passed the point where she normally comes, and now she’s just plateauing somewhere up in the atmosphere. Unfamiliar as it is, she feels like she could stay like this for hours. 

The world sharpens into focus again as Jester pulls away to looks up and cold night air breezes across Beau’s labia. 

“Inside good?” Jester gasps, takes a deep breath. “Is it okay if I put fingers inside you? Maybe my tail too, if you wanted it?”

Penetration isn’t normally Beau’s thing, just like bondage isn’t normally Beau’s thing, but, god fucking damn, it’s all she can think about now. 

“Yeah, give me all you got Jes,” Beau whispers, and then immediately has to bite down on her fist to keep a shout from escaping as Jester slides two fingers in and resumes licking at her clit with renewed focus. She strokes them upward, drawing slow circles inside of her that send a wave of heat across her whole body. Beau has to focus on her breathing, pulling back from the edge of hyperventilation and making it deep and steady instead. She can hear Jester doing the same thing, obviously excited, over the slick sound of her fingers working away inside her cunt. They float like that for a little while, like the world has shrunk to a warm, rosy bubble that contains just their two bodies, the bed, the small sounds they make. 

With that perfect mix of gentleness and pressure, Jester’s tail releases its hold on her thigh and begins pushing at her opening. Beau, curious, props herself up on her elbows and tugs at Jester’s horn to signal that she wants to watch. As she takes her mouth off Beau and sits back, pulling her fingers out as well, the sensation of her tail comes into sharper focus. Unlike the sharp points of Molly’s, Jester’s tail is all rounded edges, sort of like a soft-tipped heart. It’s smooth and frictionless as she begins to slide it in, but she pauses when the widest point, maybe 3 fingers in width, meets the muscles of Beau’s vagina. The sight is strange to Beau - her eyes track the color gradient, the way Jester’s tail gradually curves and widens until it becomes a part of her spine, just above the beautiful expanse of her ass. Jester, sensing her hesitation, reaches up and runs both hands down Beau’s sides, across her hips. Their eyes meet, and Beau is so overwhelmed with something like fondness that she can’t help but grin. Jester grins back and gives Beau’s nipple a playful twist, and with that they descend into giggling. That weird fondness she’s feeling only grows as she takes in the way Jester’s eyes crinkle into half-moons when she laughs, the way her breasts jiggle in a way that is just... jollier, compared to other breasts Beau has seen. 

The movement of her laughter makes Jester’s tail jostle in a certain way, and so Beau takes a deep breath and pushes her body downward, watching the thickest part finally slide inside her. She gasps as something magical happens down there - burn and uncertainty transforming into a weight and sense of fullness that sends the message “More, more, more” straight to the base of her brain. Still watching the point where Jester’s tail disappears, nearly as wide as a wrist, she rocks her body once, experimentally and Jester whips a hand up to stifle the moan she makes. In moments, her mouth and tongue replaces the hand, which moves down to stroke her clit some more. Beau wraps her arms around Jester’s warm back and holds on as Jester starts moving. 

The sensation is all-consuming, turning everything else to buzzing static around her. Yet despite this, the dripping heat of Jester’s kisses, the yielding openness of her mouth, sends an idea roaring awake in Beau’s mind. She pulls her head back a bit, and Jester’s black eyes open inches from her own. She doesn’t stop moving though, and they share a couple panting breaths before Beau gathers herself enough to speak. 

“What about you, Jes?” Beau hesitates, then the curl of Jester’s tail sends another wave of sensation through her and her idea tumbles out. “Wanna sit on my face?”

Jester’s eyes get somehow even bigger, her cheeks even more darkly flushed. 

“Yes. Absolutely!”

“Yeah?” Beau replies. “Think you can keep the tail where it is though?”

Jester nods and then she pushes herself up to kneeling and works her way up to perch gently at the top of Beau’s chest. The point of their connection gets shifted in the process, but as she settles and start moving rhythmically again, Beau finds the new angle drags her tail just so across her clitoris. It’s somehow, impossibly, better than before. She reaches up and grabs Jester’s thighs, pulling her up onto her open mouth. 

Jester’s taste is familiar and new all at once. She tastes like her neck smells on the mornings when they wake up spooned together. Like the spiced honey glaze on her favorite pastry. And she tastes like something else entirely - like the electric, indescribable tang of her magic that saturates the air for a fleeting moment after she casts something particularly destructive. Beau arches up, chasing her tongue after it between Jester’s labia. She can feel against her cheeks the sticky layer of wetness that already coats Jester’s thighs, can feel more of it spilling out against her lower lip. She makes a long firm lick and feels Jester thighs trembling beneath her hands. Jester’s still being polite about this, testing Beau’s level of comfort. Beau digs her fingers into Jester’s ass and pulls her down, encourages her to rock hard against her mouth. 

Jester gets the picture. She braces herself against the wall behind the bed and begins to ride Beau’s face in earnest. As she moves faster, her tail becomes more insistent too. It begins to pull almost all the way out, grind against Beau’s clit, and then surge back inside with a force that has Beau gasping muffled cries between Jester’s legs. 

Jester reaches down and grabs Beau’s hair, tipping her head back so they can lock eyes again.

“You ready?” she asks, and Beau breathes some sort of affirmation, straining against Jester’s grip on her head, desperate for more. A grin splits Jester’s face as she watches Beau struggle, and then, mercifully, she settles herself on Beau’s mouth again and begins to go all out. Her hand still guides Beau by the hair, thrusting her up to meet the slam of her hips, and her tail follows at the same pace. The world whites out into hot static again, time dilates into something resembling eternity. 

Then Jester is coming, squeezing her thighs tight against Beau’s head and sending a surge of liquid across her face. She lifts away slightly, easing up on the pressure, and twists her other arm back behind her to rub away at Beau’s clitoris with the full strength of her hand. Every zing of desire and anticipation from the evening wells into one intense point within her, then unfolds in slow motion as the hottest, longest orgasm Beau has ever had.

As Beau slowly comes back to herself, Jester scoots down until her legs bracket Beau’s belly. She leans over and takes Beau’s face between her hands, suddenly gentle in a way that begins to slow Beau’s racing heart. Jester strokes the sticky hairs away from her cheeks and brow with her own warm, damp fingers and Beau meets her eyes and wonders if Jester is picking up on the flabbergasted, fish-out-of-water tenderness that she’s feeling and could never in a million years put into words. The best she can do is reach her own hand up to cup Jester’s cheek in turn. Something in the gesture must be effective, because Jester’s whole face cracks into a long, slow grin and Beau wraps her hand around her neck to draw those wide lips in for a kiss. 

It’s a good, luxurious kiss that quickly becomes comic as it melts into little pecks and face kisses and they realize just how covered in juices they are. Jester leans almost all the way off the bed to retrieve one of Beau’s discarded arm wraps and her own waterskin to wet them with. The water is cold and the room has grown chilly since the fire died down, so they wipe their faces and hands quickly, shimmy back into nightclothes and burrow beneath the covers. 

It’s only when they’ve settled into their usual sleeping positions, two separate lumps on the lumpy inn mattress, that Jester draws a deep breath and hesitates, obviously on the verge of saying something. Beau looks over at her and sees something in her face that makes her reach out and brush their hands together under the blanket. Jester lets her breath out in a huff and rolls to face Beau. She catches Beau’s fingers in her own and takes another big breath before saying, “Hey, Beau. I was just thinking that falling asleep like this, like we always do, it doesn’t feel right. What do you think?”

“Is that so?” Beau says with a smile. “Let’s fix that.” She extricates her hand and lifts her arm in a gesture for Jester to come lay against her chest. Jester complies with a contented sigh, throwing an arm and a leg over Beau like they’ve always belonged there. 

“I am sorry I Inflicted Wounds on your cool boobs. I won’t do it again,” Jester whispers as she nuzzles down.

Beau reaches up and slides a hand into her hair, feels the heat radiating from the back of her neck. Her voice comes out hoarse when she says, “It’s okay, Jes. You know I trust you, right? Like, I trust you with everything.” 

“Yeah. I know,” Jester breathes into her chest. “Me too.”

After that, nothing else needs to be said. 


End file.
